


Comfort

by eragon19



Series: Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Greg has a bad day, M/M, Prompt Fill, but he has the best boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8135507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eragon19/pseuds/eragon19
Summary: Greg has a bad day, luckily he has a very good boyfriend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for johnlockequalslove who said:
> 
> your kitten fic was adorable! I'm a sucker for Mystrade, so I'd love to read about insecure Greg (doubting his body, his brains, his competence as a DI, anything really) and Mycroft reassuring him (can be smutty or fluffy. I'll leave that up to you).

Greg Lestrade shut the door to his boyfriend’s flat with a bang. He felt like shit. Today had been awful; first he’d come in to his boss on the rampage over his team’s lack of progress on their latest murder case. Then, said murderer had kidnapped another woman over lunch. They’d caught the mad man earlier tonight, but it had been too late for the victim.

Her name had been Linda Davis, she’d had two small children and a husband, who by all accounts was a lovely man. Greg scrubbed a hand over his face as he remembered the look of horror on the husband’s face when Greg had told him his wife was dead.

Sighing, he loosened his tie on the way up the stairs. Although they had caught the man, he still felt like shit. It didn’t help that certain members of the team had dropped snide comments about Greg being useless without Sherlock. While Greg knew Sherlock was a big help and a God send on tough cases, he still thought he was good cop, with or without the consultant’s help. Tonight, he saw things differently. Tonight, he had realized just how much of a washed up old copper he really was.

Swallowing hard, he stripped off in his and Mycroft’s bathroom and started the shower. Mycroft was away on business in France and wouldn’t return until tomorrow. A part of Greg was glad that Mycroft wouldn’t be around to hear just how badly Greg had fucked up, another part missed having his partner around for comfort and support.

The warm water helped a little. It soothed his sore muscles and dulled the ache in his head. It did nothing for the knot of dread in the pit of his stomach though. Clean, but still feeling like shit he toweled off and dragged on a pair of pajama pants before flopping under the covers.

Closing his eyes just made things worse. The images of the lady’s dead body, her husband’s distraught face and his boss’s cold glare as Greg had filled him in on the details made Greg stomach sink down to his feet. He was useless, pathetic… To his horror, Greg felt tears burning behind his eyes. He buried his face in the pillow to muffle his noises as the events of the day crashed over him.

Thank God he was alone, he would have died from embarrassment if anyone else was around to witness a grown man, a DI no less, whimpering in bed. He curled into a ball, and let the tears trickle out of his eyes. He knew it was better to get it all out now, otherwise it would just bubble over another inopportune time.

The sound of the front door opening made him jump. Mycroft wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow! He sat up quickly and scrubbed at his eyes and cheeks as he heard familiar footsteps come up the stairs. The door opened to reveal Mycroft Holmes’ smiling face. Greg smiled back as best as he could, though it felt all wrong on his face. Mycroft took one look at him and his expression turned serious, then worried.

“What happened?” he asked worriedly, as he ‘rounded the bed and sat down next to Greg. One large hand cupped the back of Greg’s neck as Mycroft peered into his eyes.

It was too much for Greg, his lips wobbling, he buried his face in Mycroft’s should and let the tears come again. Mycroft’s arms immediately wrapped around him; one arm tight around Greg’s waist, his other hand carding gently through Greg’s hair. They stayed like that for a while, with Mycroft slowly rocking Greg as he let out his frustration.

“Greg?” Mycroft said eventually, “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re starting to scare me.”

Greg gulped and pulled back slightly. Mycroft Holmes admitting he was scared _meant_ something.

“I-it was-

He choked and Mycroft pulled him back onto his shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

Greg shook his head.

“Sherlock?”

Another head shake.

“The children?”

Greg pulled back, and swallowed. “No. Everyone’s fine, it was just- just a case. Work things, nothing serious.”

Mycroft gently wiped the tears off Greg’s cheeks with his thumb.

“It must be something if you’re this upset,” he said softly.

Greg sighed, and stared down at his lap. He knew he should tell Mycroft, the man would just worry needlessly otherwise. Slowly, and with much stuttering and shame, Greg explained everything; the case, how he’d fucked up, his boss’s disappointment. By the time he was done, he and Mycroft were lying side-by-side in bed, his head resting against Mycroft’s collar bone.

When he was done, Mycroft’s face was grave. “I fail to see how any of this was your fault Gregory.” Mycroft said, “I also fail to see how you were incompetent in anyway.”

Mycroft tipped Greg’s face up with one long finger so their eyes met. “What I do see is a man who cares so much about the people involved in his cases that he aches when he feels he’s failed them.” Mycroft said, his voice soft. “You did nothing wrong Greg, and it disturbs me greatly that your boss placed the blame squarely on your shoulders.”

Greg peered at him. “You don’t have to lie to me Mycroft, I-

Mycroft’s glare cut him off. “I never lie to you Gregory, let me explain to you _exactly_ why it wasn’t your incompetence.”

With that he launched into a string of deductions that Greg was sure would have amazed even Sherlock. The train of facts, so neatly laid out showed Greg that it indeed wasn’t his fault. He even started to smile as Mycroft’s string of facts quickly turned into a list of Greg’s best attributes as a policeman and partner. By the end he’s smiling wide, and Mycroft is chuckling softly.

“Feel better?” Mycroft murmured, placing a gentle kiss to Greg’s lips.

Greg smiled and kissed him back, his arms tightening around Mycroft’s waist.

“Much, much better,” he says, smiling as rolled them over, pulling Mycroft on top of him. “In fact, let me show you just how much…”

 

****

 

Two hours later a very satisfied Greg Lestrade, pulled a sweaty and semi-conscious Mycroft Holmes close, wondering how he could have ever doubted his capabilities, in _any_ area, in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? I hope so :D If you want to give me prompt just head over to loveinthemindpalace.tumblr.com and drop me a message.


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